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So I’ve told you about Nine o’Clock, yes? As a refresher, Nine o’Clock is a new character in my life who I’m quite fascinated with. Not only do we share the same social circles, we also have similar hobbies and such. I recently found out Nine o’Clock is in the French IB program, so that’s kind of super awesome.

I know a lot of people from the French IB program at my school. In the previous semester, majority of my classes included students from the French IB program. I mean, as an IB-aspiring student, I admire those who can go the extra mile. That is, take IB in French. For most of them, French is a third language. That’s insane. Kudos to them.

I’m yet again surprised I haven’t met Nine o’Clock earlier. With so many connections, one might assume we were good friends already, but nope. Nine o’Clock is still quite alien to me in my standards.

But, Lucia, your standards are incredibly unrealistic!

Ehh, perhaps, perhaps. I do believe I don’t have an unattainable idea of a level of friendship... if that made sense. There is indeed a limit to how close you can get to me, but that limit is pretty easy to reach. At least, I think so.

Anyway, lately, my entries have been rather rushed and it’s been bugging for a while. Despite the homework I have, I’ve decided to sit myself down and write for a bit. At first, I thought I might want to finish the CS entries due last month, but I lack the motivation for that. I’ll get those up someday, I promise.

... But my promises are thin sheets of clear glass. Interpret it as you will.

I figured I’d talk about Nine o’Clock today. Regardless of our premature relationship, I feel like I can write quite a substantial amount about Nine o’Clock. There are things I will tell you, things I will hint to you, and things I’ll conceal completely. At this point, if you know me in reality, you have a chance at discovering the identity of this mysterious Nine o’Clock person. If you’re a stranger to me, that’s cool, too.

The last entry about Nine o’Clock is pretty old considering how time seems to fluctuate. Sometimes moments are too fast to take note of and other times, moments last so long it becomes a painstaking struggle. With Nine o’Clock, I feel time slows to a nice pace at which I can relish the moment while it’s happening.

I had a group project to do in Bio 20 some time ago. My group was... definitely not the best bunch of students. We had lots of trouble contacting each other, mainly because half of us (excluding me, ‘course) had no wish to contribute to the assignment. Like, you know how more often than not, there’s that one person who has to carry the team? Yeah, greetings.

Normally, I don’t mind group projects.

HAHA, neverminds. I lied. I hate group projects. Why? Because in my memory, nearly all my group projects were done with classmates I can’t choose.

Teachers, if you’re reading this, be extremely careful of who you pair up.

In elementary, group projects were fun because everyone was essentially doing the same work. If someone from your group wasn’t working, you can borrow information from another group and all would go well.

Entering junior high, group projects turned into assignments to educate others. Like, we did a project on “something” and taught that “something” to the class. We couldn’t share information with other groups during the working process because we didn’t have information others could make use of and others didn’t have information we could make use of.

And, well, sure! We could get our own information, but it sucks dino balls when the amount of information gathering has to be split and you are left with no one willing to gather information. And it’s not just info gathering. It’s scripting and drawing and organizing this and that. It’s a lot of work. It’s a lot more work with the wrong group.

Too many times have I been put in what I consider “the wrong group.” Slackers and proud delinquents and careless pieces of flesh are the worst group members. I don’t intend to come across as rude, heaven’s no. It takes quite a bit for me to hate you as a person, but if you can’t hold up your end of the bargain, I can easily hate you for not doing your share of work.

*ahem* But as an innocent reader, I can’t thank you enough. It helps in heaps knowing I can vent my life here and have people read it. It’s like I can share my pain. “Share your pain and it halves. Share your joy and it doubles.”

Anyway, for semester one, group projects were a blast. I had my dear friend Federica in all my classes. We were (and are still) close schoolmates. We’ve done great films and massive projects in the past. I got to know her in seventh grade and she’s been a huge help ever since.

Federica, if you’re reading this, *high fives* Our Technological Hope Project was awesome.

I don’t have any classes with Federica this semester. It fills me with a bit of despair knowing I won’t find a project partner better that her. I miss knowing every group project was a guaranteed success. I miss that sense of security. I miss her a lot. Being in so many clubs and such, I only see her in the hallways once or twice a week. It’s terrible! But, reality has its way of solving itself.

My most recent group project was by far the worst high school experience I’ve had to deal with thus far. My renewed hatred for the male population was fuelled to the max during that period of time. I’m tempted to vow to never again do a group project. However, a part of me still believes I’ll find someone like Federica who I can enjoy working with. I pray that such a person exists in my current classes.

Let’s call this most recent (and horrible) group project “Kangaroo Rat.” Why? Just because. Kangaroo rats are adorable.

While working on Kangaroo Rat, my Bio 20 teacher, Mrs. Roth, took us to the computer lab twice. Now enter the awesome Nine o’Clock.

In the first visit to the lab, I sat beside Nine o’Clock. It was a voluntary action because I wanted to get to know Nine o’Clock better. I spent the first half of class working hard on Kangaroo Rat and the other half talking to Nine o’Clock. Nine o’Clock comments on how often I crack my knuckles. Nine o’Clock, too, cracks Nine o’Clock’s knuckles, but according to our conversation, Nine o’Clock can only do it every few hours or so.

Sorry if it’s annoying referring to Nine o’Clock as Nine o’Clock. There is an unsaid set of rules for my journal and according to those, I cannot share with you Nine o’Clock’s name or gender yet. I can’t use she or he or his or her. I can’t spill Nine o’Clock’s identity until I’m on familiar enough terms. I could use words like “their” and “them,” but despite how society accepts this as a way to refer to someone anonymously, it is grammatically incorrect. I’m not a full-fledged Grammar Nazi, but certain things will still grind my gears.

For ease of convenience, I will henceforth refer to Nine o’Clock as No’C.

During that initial period in the computer lab, I got a little itty bit closer to No’C. We talked a bit, but No’C was working on No’C's project as well. I didn’t want to be too much of a bother so I kept interactions to a minimum, catching No’C’s attention only when I knew for sure I could.

The next day, our Bio 20 class was let in to the computer lab again. This time, I was among the first students to enter, meaning No’C was not yet in the room. I sat in the same seat as I did the day prior, hoping No’C would as well. I saw a few people sitting at different desks and, truth be told, I was starting to lose hope.

When No’C did enter, No’C sat beside me. We greeted each other and that was that. I felt... great, really. I don’t know how to describe the feeling one gets when a dying hope is revitalized with such simple actions. It’s a pleasant feeling, for sure.

After that second day in the computer lab, No’C and I didn’t really see each other much.

And then badminton started. I did tell you guys, yes? For those who haven’t read my journal archives, I recently tried out for the badminton team. I can’t tell you yet if I made it or not due to... rather odd circumstances. I wish to tell you, but there’s a bothersome factor in my life that prevents me to freely do so.

No’C plays badminton. No’C plays quite well, actually, and one day, I hope to play against No’C. That day seems so far from now, but unless No’C dies, I can at least dream.

As No’C was waiting to play, I was sitting on the bleachers. In my school, the gym has bleachers along the two long sides. They’re the type that fold into the wall. In their most folded position, the top row can still be used as seats. During badminton practice, the bleachers are folded in and I do sit on these high wooden planks.

Our school also owns a few portable bleachers. The ones used in choir are also called bleachers, but the bleachers I’m referring to are the wooden planks suspended by two supports on either side. During badminton practice, these wood bleachers are set against the folded wall bleachers.

No’C was sitting on the portable bleachers while I, as mentioned previously, sat upon the wall bleachers. I was sitting in a way that let me hang over the edge quite a bit. Sure it was dangerous, but growing up fearless of heights and hurts, I didn’t quite care.

After talking to No’C a bit, No’C jumped up on the wall bleachers with me. I mean, I suppose it was weird to converse with a girl poking her head out from a platform above you. It almost sounds like a horror film, haha.

No’C stayed on the wall bleachers for what felt like a long time. No’C got a chance to play a few games, but either No’C didn’t know or No’C didn’t want to. Either way is fine with me. Actually, I lied. I wanted to watch No’C play. I don’t know which I prefer, watching No’C play or talking with No’C. Of course the latter played out, but I’ve yet to decide if I regret such a reality.

Eventually I showed No’C my mini-cards. They’re tiny cards of the same thickness of normal playing cards, but they’ve been dwindled down to the size of about your thumb. Yes, they’re tiny cards. I was telling No’C about how impossible it was to play with such petite cards and then No’C said something that I didn’t quite get at first.

“Hey, do you want to see a magic trick?” No’C said as No’C turned to me.

“Pardon?”

“A magic trick,” No’C repeats.

After giving No’C an incredulous look, I asked him, “What, with these cards?”

“Yeah,” No’C replied.

I’m not a huge fan of magic tricks, to be honest. I mean, I think they’re really cool, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to see them. But, oh well, I thought. Why not, right?

“Sure,” I answered and handed my mini-cards to No’C.

No’C began placing the cards out and counting them a certain way. No’C made six piles and instructed me to choose three. I didn’t think before choosing them. I just randomly selected three piles and No’C gathered them up.

I didn’t end up getting to see the rest of the trick because badminton practice was cut short. No’C apologized and invited to show me some other time. As No’C was gathering the cards, No’C dropped a few. This wasn’t much of a surprised considering the cards were teensy.

It was kind of funny, I thought. The cards were extremely hard to pick up. After a few seconds (at least, I hope it wasn’t more than a few seconds) of watching No’C try to pick up the cards, I helped out. After all, they were my cards and I’d be rude to not lend a hand.

With our combined effort, it was still difficult to collect the cards. A bit of laughter was released and I felt our friendship being formed.

Awesome sauces. But, despite this new rank of familiarity, I don’t deserve an “Achievement Unlocked” notification. Not yet. Likewise, I cannot yet reveal to you who No’C is.

I proposed No’C show me in Bio 20 class, as it was a morning badminton practice and school itself had yet to start. No’C rushed a “maybe” before going. Unfortunately, nothing interesting happened between No’C and me later that day, but that’s alright. Our little encounter was enough for me.

Okeedokes, well, Monday comes in a few minutes and I’ve yet to do my homework. How typical of me. One day, I’ll fix my time management. When that day comes, I might tell you. If that day comes, I think you’d be able to tell yourself. My entries will eventually be more regular and everything will stabilize.

In all seriousness, dear readers, I’ve been feeling pretty scattered lately. I start everyday empty and lost and sometimes depressingly hopeless. No’C is a nice touch to my life, but even No’C can’t fill this consuming void that presides within my soul. I’ve lost the will to do well in school. Now I’m just living life how I remembered to, but life isn’t... *sighs* It isn’t something you can learn how to be good at. It isn’t something you can sculpt into perfection. It’s flawed and although it is supposed to work, my life has been out of whack.

I’ll fix myself eventually, dear readers. When that happens, do be happy. If you’re in need of some fixing yourself, feel free to contact me and we’ll fix each other! Meanwhile, comment below the artist and title of this song and a reward shall be granted~!

Praying like a fool who just shot a gun
Heart still beating but it's not working
It's like a hundred thousand voices that just can't sing
I reached out trying to love but I feel nothing

Among the few songs on my iPod, I’ve heard this countless times. It’s a nice song, but I don’t grasp the full concept of it. The artist tends to make rather meaningful songs, in my opinion, and I like that. If you know the song, kudos to you-dos~! Don’t be afraid to submit an answer below. If you don’t know it, that’s alright, too. Leave a comment if you’d like to. I’ll read anything.

Oh, and thanks for my reading my entry! I just checked my reader count and I’m surprised. Thank you guys so very much! I’ll see you again next entry! yum_puddi